


Aiya Surli Tikiatasanga

by mavy1



Series: Zukka Week 2019 [4]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Zukka Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 21:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17553635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavy1/pseuds/mavy1
Summary: Zukka week day six - Storm“Zuko.” a familiar, soothing voice murmurs into the dark. “It’s alright.” Soft lips press against his temple in a slow, tender kiss. “I’m here.”Zuko never quite stops having nightmares.





	Aiya Surli Tikiatasanga

Fire. Fire writhing blue and bronze, leaping, blazing relentless. Approaching on swift wings. Blistering, burning, consuming. Biting down, latching on, festering deep within flesh. Wrath incarnate. Rotten. Scorned. Marked.

 

Panic.

 

Zuko wakes with a yelp, and a stinging in his flesh were none should be. Where nothing should be. Body wracked by choked sobs, he struggles for air, mouth tasting of ash. Nails dug deep into his skin, marking angry paths of red up his arms, soaked in sweat, chilled to his bones by the night air. Reeling, teetering on the edge an inferno.

 

A warm, steady hand comes to rest against his back, trails down his spine, wraps around his waist. With a slight rustling of sheets, a warm body presses against him, heating his skin, grounding him.

 

“Zuko.” a familiar, soothing voice murmurs into the dark. “It’s alright.” Soft lips press against his temple in a slow, tender kiss. “I’m here.”

 

Gentle hands smooth his damp hair from his face, fingers coming to rest against his neck, soft kisses barely felt trailing down his scarred cheek. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

 

Zuko wails openly, frantic and gasping, safe in Sokka’s arms, who holds him close and rocks him gently, reciting assurances as if the incantation could invoke the peace he desperately wishes he could provide.

 

Slowly, slowly, calm settles over the room. With it, the drumming of rain against the window can be heard. Whether it had borne witness to his nightmares Zuko doesn’t know, but he’s grateful for it’s comforting steadfastness. His still shaky breaths are punctuated by distant rolling thunder and stayed by Sokka’s steady heartbeat.

 

Zuko leans heavily against Sokka’s chest, nose brushing his collar bone where hot breath tickles skin. Exhaustion grips his body, but fear whets his thoughts to a sharp edge. He forces himself think of nothing apart from Sokka’s warmth and love, and the rectifying rain and thunder just beyond his reach.

 

“Sokka.” He breathes.

 

“Yes love?” Sokka replies softly, voice muffled by Zuko’s hair.

 

Zuko, worn and frail, can’t offer more than a quite sigh to Sokka’s concerned adoration.

 

“Would you like it if I sang to you?”

 

“Mmm…” Zuko hums in response. Yes, that sounds right.

 

Sokka lays back against the soft, inviting bed, Zuko nestled against his chest, legs tangled together. He breathes deeply as he traces paths up and down Zuko’s spine. His lips part, and he begins, words skimming briefly against Zuko’s soft skin before being lost to the dark.

 

The song is ancient and knowing, worn thin by generations of use. The melody is simple but lovely, words formed adoringly by Sokka’s practiced tongue, voice sharp as frozen air yet soft as rounded stones, reverberating deep in his chest.

 

To Zuko, the words are foreign, some language never known. The unfamiliarity is reassuring in a way, the strangeness made comforting by Sokka’s familiar intonations. He feels it almost as much as he hears it, cheek pressed firmly against Sokka’s chest, which rises and falls rhythmically, vibrating with each soft syllable.

 

The refrain fills Zuko’s mind, calming the storm that rages there. Soon he thinks of nothing, rain and thunder and folk song all he hears.

 

It’s slow and agonizing, but finally, finally, Zuko drifts off, lulled by Sokka’s presence and care, dreaming of indigo seas and soft brown skin.

**Author's Note:**

> You will never convince me that all four nations originally spoke the same language. They have their own cultures let them show it! 
> 
> If you're wondering what song Sokka is singing to Zuko, it's the second song on [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Q005ElC2Ew) record.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lateness, shortness, and general angst of this story.


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